


did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

by actuallyitsstar



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Car Accidents, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exes, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sketches, idk man does anyone remember, just read it its cute lmao, that gmm sketch randl did, this is that but longer, with the two characters who made out in a car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 08:17:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20721068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actuallyitsstar/pseuds/actuallyitsstar
Summary: does anyone remember that sketch with the characters named bro and angel who like, totally made out in a car on a date on gmm? yeah. this is that, but more. i don't know man. i wrote it when that episode of gmm aired so like, a few years ago. it's cute and sweet and fluffy and i wrote it in middle school so PLEASE don't judge my writing from it but lol enjoy it!





	did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

**Author's Note:**

> babes, you read the summary, so idk. like i said this is very old so let's not associate this with how i write now, but anyway, this is an ancient "bro and angel" sketch universe fic. have a nice time reading it and leave a comment or kudos to keep me alive if you like it!

Bro looked at his phone for the millionth time in the last hour, still disbelieving his own accomplishments. He’d never been very good with the ladies. He just didn’t have the charm, not like the other fellows did, and they hadn’t let him forget it.

It hadn’t helped matters that in school, the ladies had turned up their noses when they heard his name. No girl wanted to say she was going with “Eugene”. Not the captain of the cheerleading team nor the mousey girl with glasses who was too shy to talk to him. It was just a bad draw in life, being called Eugene.

That’s why he decided that his name would, from then on, be Bro. Bro was simple, easy to spell, universal. Much less risky. There was the trouble of texting though. Due to autocorrect’s questionable decisions, many of his texting-pals actually knew him as Brow.

That was still better than Eugene.

Speaking of texting, he wondered if he should text her. He hadn’t been on a lot of dates. He just didn’t know the protocol. Maybe he should text a friend for help, he thought. But the last time he texted a friend about a date, well, they weren’t very encouraging. He couldn’t blame them, of course; who would want to date him- sorta dumb looking, too tall, and no grace whatsoever.

Of course, said friend also believed his name to be Brow. That may have played a part.

He sighed, glancing at his phone one last time before opening his car door and stepping inside. He was glad he’d only had one drink, happy to be sober for this moment. It was an important moment, the day he finally got a date without help or sympathy, without bribes or luck. He asked a girl on a date and she said “yes”, presumably because she wanted to.

He pulled into his driveway and stepped out of the car, locking the doors for the first time in weeks. Not a part of his usual regimen, as he didn’t so much mind what happened to his car. It would be a good enough excuse to call in sick if someone stole it. But now- now he needed to keep it around. He had a use for it tomorrow night; a use he didn’t at all dread.

Going to work wasn’t the best experience. He didn’t mind the job much and he made enough for his comfort. He just didn’t get along so well with the people there. They were always after him about this or that, talking about their latest romantic conquests and teasing him about his single status. Telling him to liven up, or get fashion sense, or asking if he even had any friends.

He didn’t want to tell them that he didn’t, not really. He’d never been good at making friends. He wasn’t particularly enticed to get better at it either, based on their example.

But the last straw, or at least what finally pushed him over the edge of realizing how much of a loser he really was, happened the day before. Of course, his name was still Eugene. That’s what his momma, bless her heart, chose, and that’s what his birth certificate read, to every official in the courthouse's amusement, he was sure. It’s what he wrote in his job application. To be sure, he added that he went by Bro in personal interaction. The applicant officer respected his wishes, but when review time came, his application was handed to his boss, and everyone knew the truth. His name was Eugene and everyone had a good joke about it. Whether it was a pun to do with personal pronouns and pants, or a question about a Disney movie, he could count on his co-workers to remind him of his faults.

It was high school all over again and he just didn’t have the patience. It wasn’t fair, he’d grumbled, as he walked to his car earlier the same day. Two days of name jokes. That was it. He was going to the bar. It was Friday night, no one he knew went there. He didn’t care what happened.

He stopped just inside the door of his apartment and looked down at his phone again.

_ Angel has accepted your friends request _ , the notification said. He smiled. What happened was most certainly the highlight of his year, maybe his whole life. 

♡ - ♡ - ♡

_ There he was- at a table in the back with a glass of beer, feeling sorry for himself- and in she walked. Tall, striking brunette, unafraid to wear heels despite her already somewhat towering stature. Of course, he was still taller. He’d never met anyone taller than himself. But those heels brought her awfully close. _

_ Bright pink lipstick and fluttery eyelashes turned his way, his corner scanned by bright, clear blue eyes framed in eyeliner. He knew she’d look away as soon as she saw him. They always did. Any minute now she’d turn up her nose and look away. _

_ Any minute now. _

_ She wasn’t looking away. _

_ She was smiling at him. She was eyeing him up and down and gesturing to the bar with her eyes. Wasn’t she? Was he imagining it? He remembered staring down at his drink, wondering what was in it. _

_ But when he’d looked up she was seated at the bar, watching him over her shoulder. He was pretty sure she’d winked at him. _

_ She’d turned her attention away from him after that, but she stayed at the bar. It took him several moments to scrape together the courage to get up but, he managed, and he stood up, his chair scraping the floor behind him. She didn’t turn at the sound. He couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad sign. _

_ He seated himself beside her at the bar, and when she didn’t say anything, he stammered, feeling scared as roll call at school in the room with his crush, “Hi.” _

_ She turned his way, looking at him from under her eyelashes. “Hello,” she smiled. _

_ “My uh, name’s Bro.” _

_ He glanced away and back at least three times, more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as his momma used to say, bless her heart. “You uhh, come here often…” he trailed off, unsure if that as the right move. _

_ She shook her head. “Maybe I should,” she said. _

_ He knew he was blushing very red, but he saw opportunity, and he couldn’t let it pass. It might not come again. _

_ “Do you…” What was a cool thing to say? Why wasn’t he a cooler dude?.... Hmm. What was something the cool kids would’ve said? _

_ “Do you wanna blow this popsicle stand?” _

_ Maybe that wasn’t the best choice. _

_ She looked puzzled, but there was a smile in her voice when she said, “You’re cute.” She glanced at the bartender, ordering her drink and ordering a second one for him. The bartender placed their drinks in front of them, and she sipped hers whilst she watched him. “My name is Angel. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.” _

_ It sounded mild enough, but the way she was looking at him… Oh, Lord. He took a very large gulp of his drink. _

_ “Would you like to do it another time? I mean…” _

_ She smiled at him. “Are you asking me on a date?” _

_ He glanced away and back, and nodded vigorously. Yeah, heaven help him, he was. _

_ She cocked her head a little to the side as she said, “Of course. I’d love to.” _

_ He didn’t know how he should react, but he supposed looking as if he’d meant for her to say yes was a good start, so he tried not to exclaim in excitement and surprise, and instead asked, “Tomorrow night?” _

_ “Tomorrow night,” she confirmed. She pulled her phone out of her purse, and though it took a moment he got the hint and grabbed his. “Can I… I mean do you mind if…” _

_ “I’ll give you my number,” she said smoothly, fixing his stammering problem. _

♡ - ♡ - ♡

He pulled a can of coke from the fridge, and snagged a box of crackers, seating himself on the couch for a late night snack before bed. What would he wear tomorrow? What about his hair? It needed cut. He hadn’t gotten up the motivation to find someone to do it. What if the guys at work were right and his clothes were the reason the ladies didn’t like him?

Calm down Bro, he reminded himself. It doesn’t matter if the ladies like you. It matters that one lady in particular does.

He put his coke down on the stand next to him and started to swing his feet up onto the couch, ready to turn in for the night, but he stopped himself. He should brush his teeth. And he should take his shoes off. What if she stopped by his apartment, and she saw the spot his shoes made on the couch?

Well, his couch was essentially a giant spot. But still, he didn’t want the stains to have stains. He took off his shoes, and pushed himself off the couch towards the bathroom, fiddling with his hair as he went.

Coming back to his living room, he looked at the address of the restaurant they were going to that next night for the third time. She had chosen it and texted it to him. He didn’t know what it was like or weather to dress up or dress down. He hoped the food was good.

Glancing to the clock, he saw how late it really was. He’d better turn in if he wanted to be ready for tomorrow- not that he could ever be ready for something like this, but still.

Bro lay back on his couch, with a contented sigh. He couldn’t wait for tomorrow night.

♡ - ♡ - ♡

“I already have my own notification? How sweet!”

Never in his life had Bro been so equally relieved and frightened of a sentence.

He was just starting to think he might be doing something right for once, but no, of course his intestines had other plans. Did farts come from the intestines? Maybe they came from the stomach. All he knew was that farts definitely came out of the butt at some point and they really ruined a good moment.

“Uh yeah, and see…” he proceeded to launch into a long, gas-cleansing demonstration, building his story by the second and praying for luck.

He couldn’t really judge the expression on her face, he could only hope this was a positive experience, or at least wouldn’t end in total disaster. Dang it, this was his first, completely honest-received date. He wasn’t prepared to lose it to an awkward fart.

But then- but then she- did she? “Did you just-”

“Fart? Yes.” There was a heavy silence, during which the tension seemed to build by the second, her eyes boring holes into his, before darting straight to his lips. He couldn’t very well report doing anything differently as he looked at her bright red lips with longing, and the next thing he knew, her hands were on his collar and her lips were on his and all he could think about was how soft they were and how intense she was.

And how much red lipstick he was going to have on his face.

_ So much red lipstick. _

♡ - ♡ - ♡

Angel was simply gorgeous. He felt much too plain to be seen with her, but she didn’t seem to agree, walking down the street with him, arm in arm.

Every so often they would walk past something that caught her eye and she’d tug his arm, pulling him to stop to point to the windows of the shops, or gesture to something that attracted her attention. The best way to describe her that he had found, was that she was soft. She was lively, and she had sass, but she had soft mannerisms that made you want to watch her. At least it made Bro want to watch her. He didn’t much mind if it made anyone else want to- as a matter of fact he’d prefer it didn’t. He’d rather be the only one watching.

“Do you want to go in and look?” Angel’s voice pulled his thoughts back to the present. She was again tugging his arm and gesturing to a store, a boutique this time. Not the sort of place he’d usually want to go, but he couldn’t very well tell her no, now could he?

“Sure.” He reached forward to open the door for her, when he heard a voice yelling somewhere up the street. He turned to look, craning his neck to see.

“What is it?” She asked.

He gestured into the shop. “Uhh, why don’t you go inside and I’ll check it out. I’ll be right back, okay baby?”

She watched him for a second, eyes concerned, but nodded. He leaned down to give her a kiss- he didn’t have to lean that far- and held the door until she was well inside. Turning up the street, he started off to investigate.

It being a Wednesday evening, it wasn’t a busy day in downtown. In fact there were very few people walking around. He made his way up the street with long strides, glancing in shop windows and down alleyways, and soon he found himself watching a scene outside of a small motel. A man and a woman arguing profusely, with the occasional heated shout, until the man shoved the woman from his car and drove away, leaving her in a heap by the street.

He didn’t hesitate in trotting up to her, getting on one knee and touching her shoulder. “Uh, ma’am?”

She placed her hands against the asphalt and pushed herself up. As soon as he saw her face, he recognized her, and he swallowed, wondering if she’d recognize him.

“Eugene Huffman!”

Of course she would. The queen of high school senior year, one of the biggest dating fails he’d had, and the last person he’d been with before Angel. He couldn’t let the two of them meet or know that the other existed. Things had gone very well with Angel, absolutely perfectly in fact, despite the slightly awkward first date. From the moment they’d kissed he’d felt a hole inside of himself start to fill in. He didn’t know what he’d do if something happened. He’d not told Angel everything and he didn’t plan to. He didn’t want to ruin what they had.

Lola Conner, former cheer captain, most popular and obnoxious girl at school, would do just that.

“Hi,” he said, averting his eyes from her piercing gaze.

“Well?” she demanded. “What are you doing here?”

Bro thought fast, wanting to keep Angel separate from Lola. “Just... killing time.”

“By yourself?”

Bro nodded slowly, offering her a hand to get up. “Uh-huh.”

Lola seemed unsurprised, allowing him to help her up. “Well, you aren’t on a date, Eugene. Imagine that.”

He didn’t say anything as she got up and dusted herself off vigorously. What was there to say? Lola was sharp, and he was not, and really, he just wanted her to get away so he could move on with his life.

On some level, he thought to himself that this was silly- believing that Angel would be somehow disheartened in their budding relationship by knowing his real name. After all, what else would end up on the marriage certificate?...

(…he decided to leave all thoughts of marriage certificates alone after that one crossed his mind) but all of his previous experience, which was admittedly small, but still rather impactful, had led him to believe just that, and there wasn’t anything to be said that could put those insecurities to rest.

“So you rode the bus into town? I can’t imagine you have a car.”

At least, nothing Lola could say.

“Uh no, I... I have a car,” he began, wishing to maintain some small amount of honor, but too late realized that it was a mistake.

“Oh, perfect! Then you can drive me home. Where’s it parked?”

Well, that was Lola. Inviting herself into your business and taking your self respect with her when she left.

Bro glanced nervously up the street to the boutique where he’d left Angel. How much time did he have? How far would he have to go? The former was probably the more pertinent question.

“Um, where do you live?” he asked slowly, trying to seem unconcerned.

“Oh not too far, I’ll tell you where to go.” She was already off marching to the nearest parking area.

“Oh no uh, actually it’s... It’s this way.” he gestured towards the other end of the street, which was closer to the park where he and Angel had picniced before walking into town. Gosh, he hated doing this, but he knew the bus stop was only a few feet from the boutique and he knew it would only end in disaster if he made Lola wait there for it.

She gave him a questioning glance, but he did not reciprocate the look, and just walked onward in the most businesslike fashion he could muster. She followed along, pulling a small tube out of her bag and forcefully reapplying her lip gloss.

He liked the gentler way that Angel did it better.

To take his mind off that, he tried to chat a little. “So, who was that guy?”

Lola glowered. “Rick. He’s a jerk and I never want to see him again. Doesn’t ask my permission for anything, just does it. Doesn’t ask if he can have anything, just takes it. Said he was going back to a woman who’d give him what he deserves. I hope he chokes on the first meal she cooks him!”

He tried to suppress his eye roll over her dramatic relationship problems, but he saw her tug the sleeve of her shirt down over a bruise on her wrist out of the corner of his eye. Of course, that could be from the shove out of Rick’s car, but still… well, either way she said they’d broken up. And she made it sound like it was over her cooking. Perhaps it was.

Bro unlocked the car and opened the door for Lola, getting in on the driver’s side and quickly starting the engine. “Where am I going?” he was prepared to break all sorts of speed laws to get Lola back where she belonged, which was as far away from him as possible.

“Two blocks down and right, three over and left, first alleyway on your righthand side.” she instructed hastily, inspecting her eye makeup in a compact. She frowned at her smudged eyeliner. “Mine is the third door down.”

It was strange, her mannerisms, they reminded him of Angel. They reminded him a lot of Angel. But they were also so different. Lola’s seemed harsher, more hard-edged and world-weary, but Angel was, well, soft.

Gosh, he wanted to get back to Angel.

As he prepared to turn onto the next road, he was met with a detour sign. High water from the pond near the park flooded over a small section of road. Wonderful he thought, with a sigh, just what they needed, more time stuck in the car together.

But it was only as me made the next corner in the detour that he realized it was going to take him around two blocks and right in front of the boutique. Oh no, what was Angel going to think? She was going to see him driving by with a woman in the car, after being gone an unreasonable amount of time. Good Lord, it was better for her to end it over his name and previous relationships than suspicion and trickery like this.

No wonder Rick had thrown Lola out. Having her in the car caused all sorts of problems.

Well, nothing to do but gun it and go, he thought. To his surprise however, a silver flash- a little silver car containing one man- darted from a side street just ahead of the detour at the last possible moment, apparently looking for a shorter shortcut around said detour. He didn’t have time to do much of anything but brace himself for impact.

With a sickening crunch and a jolt, the two vehicles collided. A scream rose from Lola and and a groan from Bro as the side of the car was shoved in to meet them.

He wasn’t really too sure what happened after that, but one moment he was sort of splayed out in the wreckage- it really wasn’t so bad, except for all the crumpling cars do these days, he thought absently, it would have been just a fender bender- and the next moment he was out of the car and Angel, his lovely Angel, was asking him questions.

“Are you alright? Can you hear me?... Sweetheart?”

Apparently, he wasn’t answering any of them.

“...Bro?”

He blinked several times, bringing his world into focus. He was standing in the grass beside the car, and Angel was facing him, both hands on his chest, looking worriedly up into his eyes

He found himself with a few questions of his own, such as how did he get there? Who was that girl standing a ways away? What hit him? Why was everything so blurry?

But it seemed rude to ask them when Angel had already asked so many. “...Baby?”

Her face blossomed into a smile at his voice. She dropped her head onto his chest and slid arms up around his shoulders. “Goodness, I was so worried,” she murmured, and he absently raised his hands to her back, although he was much more preoccupied with his questions and their answers. 

One of those questions was answered immediately when he heard feet stomping their way and a sharp voice exclaim, “I don’t know who I blame more, that jerk Rick or you!”

Uh-oh, that girl was Lola. Now he remembered.

His mouth was suddenly very dry.

What was he gonna do now?

“I uh… sorry,” he said lamely, not meeting her eyes, instead looking down at the top of Angel’s head and wondering if it would still be there when the person inside it realized who this woman was.

Lola marched right up to him… actually, hobbled would be a more correct term, as she walked gingerly on one ankle, and poked him on the chest as Angel stepped back in surprise at the sudden confrontation. “Eugene Huffman, your insurance better pay for this!” She gestured to her feet. “This injury could be for life!” She swung around to a man sitting on the grass several feet away, with the boutique owner, head between his knees. “And as for you, you little…”

Bro didn’t really hear the rest of it. He was too busy watching Angel’s puzzled face. “Who was that?”

He looked toward the ground and scuffled a shoe. “Just umm. Yeah.” he shrugged. No hiding it now, he supposed. “We used to date.”

Her eyes darted to the furious woman currently lashing out against her most recent ex, and back to Bro. Her mouth quirked up a tiny bit on one side. “I’m guessing it didn’t work out?”

“No.”

She just sort of nodded, and there was a bit of amusement in her voice when she said, “Eugene?”

Well, here it was, he thought glumly.

“Is that your legal name?”

He filled his lungs with air and nodded his head, preparing for the negative reaction, the jokes, or even worse, the masked dislike and fake compliments.

They didn’t come.

She just laughed and said, “Why, I never heard ‘bro’ as a short form of ‘eugene’, but I do quite like it.”

He was still braced for negativity and when it hadn’t come, he was genuinely confused.

“You….? I mean you don’t, you, you know, you don’t… hate it?”

Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. “Of course not.” she said softly. “I think it’s adorable.” She stood high up on her tiptoes and pecked at his nose. “And so are you.”

Bro was astounded. He was looking down at his hands, and up at the sky, and off to the trees, anywhere but Angel, anywhere but the bright, blue eyes looking up at him with love and contentment. 

Her smile dropped a little as she asked, “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, feeling like something must have been jarred loose in the crash. The sudden motion caused him to sway on his feet, and Angel’s arm was around his waist in a moment to steady him. “Perhaps we should sit down.”

He glanced from the car to the bench across the street near the boutique, the one by the bus stop. “We could uh, we could sit there. Guess we’ll need that to get home now anyway.”

They paused to acquire the proper information from the driver at fault in the crash, receiving nothing but glowers from both Lola and Rick, who glowered at one another equally as much. Then they made their way across the street to the bench, where Angel sat on one end and invited Bro to put his head in her lap.

He knew that his feet, and possibly his knees, hung comically off the end, but he didn’t care, really. He laid back and let her play with his hair as they waited. They had at least half an hour to kill before the next bus.

“What were you two doing?” Angel asked him softly, after a few silent moments had passed.

“She uh, just broke up with that guy. Needed a ride…” he was trying to find a way to explain the whole not telling her anything about it part, but she said, “That was sweet of you. It must have been awkward.”

“Yeah it was, uh, it was that.”

She was quiet for a short while, fingers drawing lazy circles behind his ear. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shut his eyes. “Didn’t want you to meet.” He could feel her questioning gaze without seeing it. “I mean, you wouldn’t want to date a guy named, you know… and once you heard the dirt from her you wouldn’t want to date me at all.”

Angel just shook her head slowly. “You precious idiot,” she smiled at him, “She is not the sort of relationship reference I would pay any attention to.” She laughed, “And to think I would base my relationship decisions on your name!”

“Well, they all have before,” he muttered, feeling close to sleep, as her hands in his hair helped to soothe his growing headache.

“They are all very petty to throw away such a dashing catch over something that isn’t a flaw at all,” she returned, firmly.

A smile spread from the corner of his mouth, and his somewhat scattered brain couldn’t come up with anything to say, so after a silence just beginning to stretch from  _ comfortable _ to  _ too long _ , he half-whispered, “I love you.”

She leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I know,” she whispered, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “I love you too, you silly, handsome man.”

He wondered if Lola was watching from across the street.

He hoped she got a stomach ache if she was.

♡ - ♡ - ♡

Bro quietly kicked his shoes off before swinging his feet up onto his couch, mindful of the gentle weight that rested at his side. His arm was draped around Angel’s shoulders and her head rested half on his chest and half on his shoulder, long lashes brushing her cheeks. He carefully adjusted his position, sliding into more of a laying-down arrangement and pulling her down on top of him. He’d hope to settle them both without awakening her, but she hummed in acknowledgment of the change and moved her head to where she could hear his heartbeat. “What time is it?” she murmured sleepily.

“Eleven-thirty,” he said in a hushed voice, clasping his hands over her back. “Go back to sleep.”

“I have work in the morning,” she protested, rubbing her eyes.

“Call in sick,” he whispered.

She chuckled. “I don’t think ‘boyfriend was in an accident with his ex’s ex’ is a viable sickness.”

“C’mon Ange,” he begged, “just stay.”

Perhaps it was his plaintive undertone, or perhaps it was the yawn that seized that moment to take over her face, but she nodded slightly and pressed herself more comfortably against his body, resting one hand palm-down on his chest and the other reaching for his.

“The only reason you want me to stay is because I have a car and you don’t,” she said softly with a laugh bit back in her voice, half smile tugging on her mouth.

He chuckled. “Maybe,” he said.

She squinted up at him from one eye, the other squeezed tightly shut. “I’ll tell my boss that my boyfriend stole my car.”

He just smiled and shook his head. “Worry about that in the morning,” he said with amusement. “Go to sleep.”

The directive wasn’t needed; he could already feel her relax against him as sleep overcame her.

The fact that she had a car certainly wasn’t a downside, but that definitely wasn’t even close to the reason he wanted her to stay

There were so many reasons he wanted her to stay.

He’d always thought he’d have to be different, to be loved. He couldn’t be Eugene. He couldn’t be Lola’s ex. He couldn’t be an awkward, too-tall dork with long blond hair and a worn beanie.

But he didn’t.

The only thing that had to be different were the types of people who loved him, and there wasn’t a single bad thing about that.

As far as he could tell, that part of it was all positives.

And he wanted- he wanted to hang onto it a little longer. He wanted to feel her next to him to remind himself that it was real. He wanted to know he wasn’t imagining things, wouldn’t wake up and find he’d dreamed the whole thing.

With a final contented sigh, he switched off the light above his head.

♡ - ♡ - ♡

Bro had awakened first, and found himself in a slightly awkward position: what should he say to Angel? What was the perfect way to greet her when she woke up? It had to be romantic. It had to be sweet. It had to be personalized just for her. He found himself quite stressed about it, but by the time the sunlight pouring into the window was on her face, by the time her lashes began to flutter, he had decided on exactly the right thing to say. He watched her crystal blue eyes blink sleepily up at him, a smile spreading across her lips.

“Morning, Angel,” he whispered. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“Hmm?” she hummed.

He grinned and leaned down close to her mouth for a kiss. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”


End file.
